


Heartbreak

by DarklingMoon



Category: God of War
Genre: Atreus isn't straight but neither is Kratos so they bond over this, Family Bonding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 14:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14717682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarklingMoon/pseuds/DarklingMoon
Summary: Kratos walks in on Atreus with a mortal boy. He tells him the rest of the story about the Spartan soldier Atreus was named after.





	Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> I barely know the canon here, so apologies for any mistakes!  
> This takes place when Atreus is 16 or so.  
> If people like this, I might write another part from Atreus's perspective, so let me know!

Kratos strode purposefully through the snowy woods, towards their makeshift cabin on the edge of the village. It was rough, just enough to provide some shelter from the bitter winter. They had only been here for a few weeks, and from what he had found today, they would not be staying more than another night.

Their purpose here was merely to relieve their boredom. It had been six years since Faye's death and since their journey to scatter her ashes. Kratos was content to fall into a peaceful routine at their home, dreading the day when the gods would once again disrupt it, but Atreus's age made him restless. He was growing as a mortal boy his age would, and eager for tests of his strength and cunning. He was tall now—nearing the height of his father.

Currently they were tracking an artifact that the Huldra brothers had asked them to find, assuring them it would be useful the next time they were attacked by gods. This was mostly to convince Kratos—Atreus just wanted to get out of the house.

Despite Kratos' better judgment, Atreus had talked him into staying so close to the village. He had argued that the artifact could be in the village, and even if it wasn't, if it was this close to a settlement the people living here probably had some idea where it was. He was right, but something else made Kratos finally agree. Despite his fears, Atreus needed to talk to people that weren't him. The young man was far more outgoing than he had any reason to be, given his parentage. He had a gift with not only languages, but all the beings who spoke them. He deserved to be able to nurture this talent as well as his talent for combat. Begrudgingly, Kratos had to admit that both would protect him.

He was indeed nurturing his talent. It was Atreus who had spent a day talking to the oldest man in the village, listening to his rambling stories for hours with rapt attention until he learned of the forgotten mine that the old man's brother had died in, many years ago, and the mysterious power he had witnessed when he tried and failed to rescue his brother. Atreus had spent several days playing games with the elder's grandsons and their friends before he heard about the old man's fantastical stories, always using just enough of his skill to impress them, but never so much that they would suspect his true nature. He even allowed himself to lose some games, which his father was silently impressed by.

As he approached the small hut, Kratos could hear voices. Two: Atreus and another young man. Kratos didn't know his name—hadn't bothered learning any of the villager's names—but he recognized it as one of the boys Atreus had befriended.

He didn't bother to quiet his steps as he approached, but Atreus did not seem to hear him. That was not good. Atreus should not have let another person into their house, and he should not let himself be caught off guard. He slammed open the door.

The two boys sprung apart, the village boy falling off the bed with a shout of surprise. He scrambled to his feet—surprisingly fast, for a mortal—and when Kratos stepped aside, he dashed past him and out the door. His footsteps receded into the village as Atreus straightened his clothes, flushing bright red. He finally looked up at his father's impassive face, tilting his chin up defiantly. “Did you find anything about the relic?”

“Atreus.”

He rolled his eyes, which was a habit Kratos really wished he hadn't picked up in their travels, but didn't say anything.

“You should not have let anyone into our house. You were distracted. What if it had been an enemy at the door?”

“Well, he was distracted too, so...” Atreus trailed off, tracing a rune on his blanket. “I wouldn't have let him find anything here. That would let him figure out we're gods, I mean. Or anything about the relic.”

“Still, you should not have run that risk.” Kratos turned and walked back out of their hut, and Atreus scrambled to follow. After several minutes, he said, “I have found where the artifact is, but it is heavily guarded.”

Atreus nodded. “I figured it would be. You don't just leave something like that out in the open. Unless you lost it.”

They walked for several more minutes before Atreus broke the silence. “So...you don't have anything else to say about that?”

“No. I have warned you not to get too close to mortals. I have told you why I am disappointed.”

“You thought Mother was a mortal,” Atreus pointed out.

“Your mother was a powerful sorceress. I believed her to be mortal, but not weak.”

“So? Anyway, I'm probably not even going to see him again, if we can go get the artifact now,” Atreus said, a little bitterly.

Kratos was silent. They walked another mile, finding and scaling a cliff. Atreus was now the more adept climber of the two of them, and he scrambled up the rock face, reaching the top first.

Atreus kicked some rocks over the edge of the cliff as his father pulled himself up. “And you don't have anything to say about Rolf being a man? Like me?”

“He is not like you.”

“Yeah, I know, but like...isn't it wrong? Or forbidden or something? Like I know we're gods, but most people we meet don't know that.”

“Here, that is seen as deviant. In Sparta, it was the norm. If a soldier in battle loved the man fighting next to him, he would fight twice as fiercely.”

“Huh. I never knew that. Did you ever...Sorry,” he said quickly. “I know you don't like to talk about your homeland. But I know almost nothing about it.”

Kratos was quiet for a few minutes, then he spoke again. “I have told you the story of the Spartan Atreus.”

“Yeah, you said he fought with you when you were in the Spartan army. He was a good warrior, but he was also happy.”

“He was the man I was fighting for.”

“Oh...wow. Were you sad when he died?”

“Yes. But he died a good death, and he died protecting me and many other soldiers. I would have been honored to do the same.”

“I suppose that makes sense. It's like he fulfilled his purpose in life.”

“Yes.”

They reached the mines, Kratos lifting the boulders that had fallen over the entrance.

It took them hours of walking, and more than a little tunneling, to find the hidden chamber with the artifact. It was protected by powerful stone guardians that were quick to come to life, even with as long as the relic had been buried here. Against two demigods they did not stand much of a chance, however, especially as Atreus grew bigger and stronger with every day.

It was the next day when they emerged from the mines, carrying the relic, which ended up being a small bone dagger that quickly drained the strength of whoever it cut. It was powerful enough to make even a god vulnerable for a few seconds. It fit well in Atreus's hand, but for now it was stored safely in his pack.

When they reached their hut, they set about packing up, but Kratos did not fail to notice Atreus's glances towards the village. Finally, he said, “We do not need to leave yet. We should eat and rest before we leave.”

“Okay. Can I...go talk to Rolf? Just to say goodbye,” he added quickly.

“...Go,” Kratos said with a curt nod.

Atreus gave him a quick smile and dashed out the door. It was good that they were leaving. Growing attachments here would only lead to tears later. Still, he was worried about the next time this would happen. Atreus would want to be with people his own age, but was different from any other they had come across—part god, part mortal, and part Jotunn. He would find no one else like himself.

Yet with his quick wit and quick smile, he would find many who appreciated him for what he was. If only he could escape the heartbreak that would inevitably come.


End file.
